


Flagrant

by deathwailart



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, F/M, Implied Relationships, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-09
Updated: 2014-08-09
Packaged: 2018-02-12 11:08:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2107581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathwailart/pseuds/deathwailart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bronach bumps into Brynjolf and Karliah on the road to Irkngthand and travels with them.  As they make camp she decides to thank Karliah for saving her life and Karliah says that Brynjolf should thank Bronach too for helping the guild.</p>
<p>Written for the 30 day drabble challenge: flagrant</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flagrant

Normally sneaking in the shadows is what she does. She's good at it, it keeps her from unnecessary injuries or having to spend time and coin repairing her armour or making or buying potions. She can spend days in tombs and dungeons, creeping through, disabling the traps, taking her time to pick off the living and the undead alike by sneaking up and firing arrows then disappearing into the shadows until they lose interest. Usually she's alone too, most of those who say they'll follow her so heavy on their feet, setting off every blasted trap or alerting everything to their presence.  
  
It's different with people who know what they're doing. It's like the life she had before when everyone knew how to hold their breath when it was needed, to be so aware of what might clink or creak as they took a step, how to cling to a wall and to know how to place their feet. Then again her people are the Bosmer, they can run along a narrow branch and move with it until they hop down to the next, swift and silent as squirrels. Maybe this is why Brónach has always felt at home with the thieves.  
  
Well until all this business with Mercer's betrayal.  
  
Still, she likes Brynjolf, something of a rarity when it comes to Nords here but Brynjolf only cares about the guild and not politics and that's something she doesn't mind. Karliah saved her life and she's always gotten along with Dunmer after living with so many in Cyrodiil for a time; so long as necromancy doesn't come up, she's happy enough and now that they're so close to settling the score, Karliah has opened up. The air is still tense but when she's heading to meet them at Irkngthand and instead bumps into them on the road, the atmosphere is light enough, even if there's another typical Nord blizzard that has her swearing as Brynjolf laughs and tells her that one day she'll have ice in her veins too.  
  
There are much worse things than bandits in the wilds of Skyrim so they take watch together, two on, one off and she ends up awake with Karliah, used to the howl of the wind and wolves but there's no real snow to blind them and their little camp in a cave they checked carefully for any secret entrances or traps can only be accessed by someone falling on top of them or coming right at them. Brynjolf is dead to the world behind them, Karliah drinking some sort of Nord mead and she understands when her offer to share it is declined. Besides, Brónach doesn't really feel safe enough to get drunk in Skyrim yet and she doesn't know how to bring up the brewing her family taught her to Lydia who already gives her looks whenever she's eating meat and meat alone at the table the few times she stays in Whiterun.  
  
So she's very much sober when she says she wants to repay Karliah for saving her life. Sober and smiling and leaning close when she watches Karliah's violet eyes, barely daring to breathe.  
  
"We're meant to be on watch," the other woman says and Brónach just grins.  
  
"If you think I'll be that distracting..."  
  
She's given a shove that she rolls out of, pushing back her hood to settle before Karliah who lifts her hips so Brónach's fingers – even numb they're still quick and clever – can unlace the bindings and pull down just enough so that she can settle between her thighs. Karliah's breath hitches even when there's no foreplay, probably the rush of being in the wild where they might have to right themselves in a moment and fight. Brónach can feel heat between her own thighs because she doesn't do things like this, not anymore, not since she was younger and smiled more, when sniping Thalmor was more a game than a duty. Karliah lets out a muffled moan when Brónach laps at her, two fingers sliding in and all too soon Karliah is coming with a hot wet rush, a bitten off shout swallowed by the wind. She lets Karliah get a hold of her hair as she rides out her orgasm, wondering how long it's been, when she last let someone close and she moves to press the heel of one hand urgently between her own thighs.  
  
Behind them, Brynjolf clears his throat and they freeze, Brónach peering around Karliah's side to where he's half-sitting, giving them an amused look.  
  
"D'you have any idea how late it is lass when we've still a long march to get to where we're headed?" He asks, voice rougher and accent thicker with sleep. "And you Karliah..." he trails off and Brónach manages not to laugh as she rests her chin on Karliah's thigh.  
  
"She wanted to say thank you," Karliah replies, her voice soft and when Brónach looks up she's smiling, still petting through Brónach's hair, a finger drifting along to the tip of one ear and she rocks against her own hand even if the sensation is dulled through the leather. "Perhaps, if you're awake too, you should thank her as well. We wouldn't be doing this without her." Karliah looks down then, cupping Brónach's cheek. "If that's something you'd both like."  
  
Brónach nods, Brynjolf's 'aye' is more of a ragged inhale that a word.  
  
"Are you..." Brónach begins as she gets to her feet, Karliah having to steady her.  
  
"I'll keep watch. Like Brynjolf said, it's a long march."  
  
With only one of them asleep at any one time, they've made a decent arrangement of their three bedrolls, Brónach's warmer and thicker, made by her own two hands so it's plenty warm when Brynjolf strips her out of her armour, rough hands trailing down over old scars and new and he lets her direct him, guiding his head between her thighs, stubble scraping over sensitive skin until she whines in the back of her throat. It's probably not been nearly as long since she was last with someone compared to Karliah but it's been just her and her hands for too long out in the wilds and Brynjolf does something with his tongue that makes her toes curl and has her arching her back, biting her wrist so doesn't make an unholy racket. He pulls away and laughs, his face wet from her like she was from Karliah, before he holds her hips down.  
  
"I think I owe you far more thanks than just the one lass," he murmurs, smirking up at her and from the mouth of the cave she hears Karliah laugh.

**Author's Note:**

> So I finally do what feels like the skyrim fic rite of passage and write DB/Brynjolf and I'll probably end up writing more because I like writing threesomes and open relationships and two ladies who know what they want with someone like Brynjolf.


End file.
